


These Lives We Lead

by olivemartini



Series: the heavy hearts we hold together [14]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 12:07:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11577774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivemartini/pseuds/olivemartini
Summary: She's not with the FBI anymore.Beatrice is surprised to find that she misses it.





	These Lives We Lead

**Author's Note:**

> maybe read the rest of the series? You don't really need to, but slight spoilers for earlier entries if you decide to go back and read them

She's trying not to feel like she's missing out on something.

Except that it's hard, when she used to be so in tune with the team and what they were doing.  Not to mention the fact that she had a direct line to Reid whenever she wanted it, and would facetime him or call him at least twice a day to share information, and would always know right away if he was safe.  Now, she wouldn't be one of the first to know- it would go down a line of people, and probably be need to know in a lot of situations, and by the time Garcia or JJ got around to calling her, it might be too late for her to really do any good.

Spencer had asked her once if she minded that he left all the time.  Beatrice hadn't been sure how to answer at the time, because it's not like she could tell him yes, that every day he's off somewhere that she can't follow drives her crazy, but he would know it was a lie if she said that it doesn't bother her.  The only problem is she's not exactly sure what the truth is anymore.  If she was going to try to find out, she thinks it would sound something like,  _yes, it horrifies me that you're off somewhere doing something great and there's nothing I can do to help you, that you're over there and I'm all the way back here, that now there's a canyon between us when there used to be a bridge._

"It's not supposed to be easy,"  She had said instead, tracing along the bones in his hand in the darkness.  He had tried to teach her the names of the bones in the body, because that's just what Spencer thinks is quality after dinner conversation, and Beatrice had played along.  She could name them now, when she reaches out to touch him and bring him back to her.  "But we'll deal.  Because I'm not going anywhere."

She still gets invited to the team dinners, but now it's not the automatic team invite, it's the  _you belong to Spencer, and he belongs to us, so you can come to,_ much in the same way that Will or Savannah get to come.  Beatrice isn't picky about, because she's more in the group than the others are, but it still hurts a bit to be out of sync with people she had come to know so well (long nights and horrible days and stressful emotions mean quick bonding time), like losing the ability to speak in a language that you once were fluent in.

Rossi asks her how she's doing, while she helps him scrub away the remains of his pasta dinner, the rest of the team outside, barefoot in the damp evening grass.  She can hear Henry shrieking even through the closed doors, and watches Reid chase him around in circles before pulling herself back into the moment.  "It was quit a shock, the way you left us."  Rossi was watching her carefully, studying her, so there was no way he missed her reaction to the memory his words brought back:  _gun to the temple, BANG, blood on her face_.  She tries to keep the panic hidden, and loses.  "What are you doing now?"

She slumps back against the counter, lets the damp rag fall into the water filled sink.  It's nice to be able to talk to these people, to know that they get it and there's no need for her to explain.  They're good at reading between the words she doesn't say.  "Now?  Now I have no idea."  She wrings the water out, picks up another pan, tries to calm herself in the circular motion.  "Last time I quit, I was running towards anything that felt safe, even if I was just making myself more lost than I had been before.  And now I don't want to just move blindly towards something that might make me feel okay again- I actually want to  _be_ okay, to feel okay, to know that I'm doing some good in the world."

"You could write,"  He tells her, quirking up one corner of his mouth, and she wonders if Garcia had spilled the beans about that super secret poetry she writes.  "It's therapeutic to get it out, to have someone else bear witness to your story.  Take it from someone who knows.  I could help, if you like."

Beatrice likes that idea more than anything else she had thought of, her mind filled with days where she only has to worry about ink stained hands and turning bits of herself into words and lines that other people would want to read.  She's got too much in her, she might as well try to get some of it out.  And she had enough time on her hands to do it, even with all her freelance computer work she's going through.  "Maybe."  She watches the outside again, looks on as Reid scoops Henry up into his arms and twirls him in the air.  "Spencer's helping with the being okay thing."

"A person,"  Rossi says, in the tone of someone who quotes something that other people have told him and he wants to pass on to someone else, "Can never be a home."

"Yeah, well."  She turns away from the window, back to the dishes and the soapy water.  "He comes close, you know?"


End file.
